Love is Blindness
by Glass Houses
Summary: After Obi-Wan's Knighting, he approaches Qui-Gon regarding an old fantasy (slash)


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Disclaimer: "This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Lucasfilm, Ltd. No money is being made and no infringement is intended." That's my story and I'm sticking to it.  
  
Love Is Blindness  
by Glass Houses  
October, 2000  
  
* * * * * * *  
Love is blindness  
I don't want to see  
Won't you wrap the night  
Around me  
Take my heart  
Love is blindness  
-- Bono/U2  
* * * * * * *  
  
Qui-Gon sat with his bare feet up on the couch during the long afternoon, enjoying the light of the sun as it warmed the common room. On this fifteenth day of his convalescence from recent injuries on Naboo he was catching up on correspondence and watching with some remorse as his Padawan -- his former Padawan -- packed and moved the contents of his room to new quarters. Obi-Wan wasn't alone in this endeavor. A young Knight whom Qui-Gon recognized as one of Obi-Wan's former 'saber sparring partners was helping him. She was tall for a Harellian, a bit taller than Obi-Wan, well muscled, and very striking with her pale purple skin and shock of quickly growing blond hair. Qui-Gon gathered through their scattered remarks that Obi-Wan had chosen to move into her quarters, rather than opting for a small room of his own. He kept an ear open for indications of whether this new living arrangement was one of convenience or something more, but no clear clues were forthcoming.  
  
Obi-Wan walked into the common area from his own room, carrying a box which he set down by the main door beyond the couch. A quick trip back and he emerged with a last, bulky parcel as the Harellian walked out of the suite carrying several others.  
  
"That's it, Master. After I take this box, I have to pick up supplies from the quartermaster's office before they close. I'll be back this evening to get that last one," he said with a nod of his head towards the container by the door.  
  
"Obi-Wan, I may not be completely recovered, but I think I could help you with one small box if it would save you a trip."  
  
"Oh...uh, that's all right, Master, I rather wanted to come by later anyhow..."  
  
Obi-Wan looked somewhat lost at that moment, and Qui-Gon inferred that the young man wanted an opportunity to say goodbye without a box in his hands and a companion waiting just outside the door.  
  
"That would be fine. Since Anakin is off working with Yoda for the next few days, you can drop by anytime this evening."  
  
A smile of relief crossed Obi-Wan's face when he realized that he didn't need to explain.  
  
"Thank you, Master. I'll see you this evening." Then he was gone, and Qui-Gon was alone.  
  
"Get used to it," he thought to himself, and forced his attention back to his compad.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
The door buzzed around eighth hour, shortly after Qui-Gon had finished a light meal and had just settled on his meditation mat beside the couch. It opened at his voice command and Obi-Wan stepped inside. He was dressed in brown, form-fitting leggings and boots, and a simple, sleeveless white V-neck tunic. The latter, besides being slightly sheer, clung tightly to his chest and torso, showing off his lean, compact form.  
  
"Hello, Obi-Wan," Qui-Gon said, mildly curious at his former Padawan's dress. He'd never seen clothing like that at the quartermaster's supply.  
  
"Good evening, Master..."  
  
Obi-Wan hovered by the door, glancing at his last box of belongings and then at Qui-Gon. Qui-Gon took mercy on him, rose and strode the short distance over to him.  
  
"Obi-Wan, you don't need to say goodbye. Your new quarters are not far and our paths will cross as we finish work on the Stalsen treaty. I'm quite sure the council will want both of us to return and finalize it in a few month's time."  
  
He gave Obi-Wan's shoulder a brief, friendly squeeze and added, "And I will still be here for you whenever you need me. That will never change."  
  
The young man blushed and looked down. "Master ... Qui-Gon, I need to ask you something, but I suddenly don't know how to say it."  
  
"There is nothing you cannot ask me after a dozen years as my Padawan."  
  
Obi-Wan just looked in his eyes and grinned that slight grin which spoke of challenge.   
  
"All right. You know I had a crush on you when I was seventeen..."  
  
Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows but simply said, "I thought you got over that more quickly than you developed it."  
  
"I did, but -- " Qui-Gon make to speak but a quick motion from Obi-Wan stopped him. "Please, just hear me out." After getting a nod of acquiescence from Qui-Gon, he began again.  
  
"Well, I had a fantasy about you that I could never forget. As long as I was your Padawan, it was never my place to ask, nor was it a request you could grant. But now that I stand here a Knight, it is possible -- and I'd like to fulfill that fantasy tonight."  
  
Silence.  
  
"But if you're not interested, I understand. I apologize for embarrassing you; let me just collect..."  
  
"Obi-Wan, don't go."  
  
"Master?"  
  
"You simply surprised me, but I...I would like...I am not adverse..."  
  
Obi-Wan reached out and softly grasped his hand, lifting it slowly to his lips. "Are you sure? Even though you've given me more and more responsibility over the years, sometimes I think you still see me as a boy."  
  
Qui-Gon lifted his other hand to lightly stroke Obi-Wan's cheek, running his thumbs softly across the cleft in his chin. Obi-Wan seemed golden at that moment as his face caught the setting sun from the window, and his presence in the Force was strong and true, expectant but calm. Obi-Wan truly desired him. Truly wanted him.   
  
He looked into bright eyes and replied, "I have not seen you as a boy in many years. You have grown beautiful and strong." Only as he said the words did he realize how true they were. They came from deep within him, so deep that he would have never uncovered the feelings on his own.  
  
Obi-Wan reached up to the back of Qui-Gon's head and removed the tie that bound his hair back, put soft pressure against Qui-Gon's neck to tip his head down, and brushed Qui-Gon's lips with his own.  
  
Qui-Gon slid his hands over the thin material clinging to Obi-Wan's torso and returned the kiss. It was almost chaste, but just when they were both about to pull away from each other, something broke inside him and he pulled Obi-Wan closer, groaning into his mouth and seeking entrance.  
  
Obi-Wan gasped at the sudden pressure, and Qui-Gon took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, thrusting hard into Obi-Wan's mouth, tasting lips, tongue and teeth. Hands slid lower until they were firmly holding Obi-Wan under the curve of his ass, pulling him up until the Knight was on his toes. Still Qui-Gon sought more, ravaging his mouth with quick thrusts and nips.  
  
Wrapping his arms around Qui-Gon's neck, Obi-Wan lifted his legs and enfolded booted feet around his Master's waist, thrusting his crotch against Qui-Gon's stomach and moaning under the passionate onslaught.  
  
Qui-Gon finally gained some control and broke the kiss, pulling back to gaze at Obi-Wan. The young Knight's blue-green eyes were half-lidded and he was flushed and breathing hard.  
  
"Obi-Wan, want you..."  
  
"Yesss," was the only answer as Obi-Wan's arms, still wrapped around his neck, pulled him back down. This time he explored Obi-Wan's long neck, kissing and licking his way to his ears, where he gently thrust his tongue into the warm opening, earning him another low moan.  
  
Then he was walking to his bedroom, carrying the body he suddenly craved more than air, water, and life. He lay Obi-Wan on his bed and stood back, trying to collect himself. Where had this torrent of emotions come from? As he struggled for control, Obi-Wan began stroking his own nipples through the tunic's fabric, and Qui-Gon found himself tearing off his clothing. Covering Obi-Wan's body with his own, he pulled at the sheer cloth.  
  
Obi-Wan lifted both their bodies off the bed to let Qui-Gon pull the tunic over his head and suddenly Qui-Gon's hands were everywhere, stroking his face, neck and taut stomach while Qui-Gon's mouth closed over an already hard nipple. He shouted out loud at the sensation and began stroking Qui-Gon's back, lightly running his nails from neck to ass.  
  
Qui-Gon shuddered, then abandoned the nipple for another deep taste of Obi-Wan's mouth. He rolled over onto his back, pulling Obi-Wan on top of him and grinding his already hard cock against Obi-Wan's leggings. Coherent thought had fled; he only wanted more of Obi-Wan.  
  
"I need you, need you so much," he whispered.  
  
"Then take me, my Master."  
  
Obi-Wan lifted himself off Qui-Gon, made short work of his boots and slowly began to peel away his leggings. Then he simply knelt over Qui-Gon, eyes drinking their fill in the darkening room. One hand reached out to touch Qui-Gon's rigid penis, while the other softly stroked his own throbbing member. "Take me," he repeated.  
  
"Obi-Wan, I...don't have anything..."  
  
"I'm ready for you. Feel for yourself."  
  
In an eye's blink, Qui-Gon sat up and moved to kneel behind Obi-Wan. He pushed a knee between Obi-Wan's legs to part them and gently pressed his palms to the youth's shoulders until Obi-Wan's chest touched the bed. With unsteady hands he caressed and parted Obi-Wan's cheeks and saw the small hole glisten in the last of the evening's light. Obi-Wan had oiled and prepared himself.  
  
Qui-Gon's cock was throbbing painfully now and he leaned down, kissing Obi-Wan's lower back and nuzzling the area where the cleft began. Then he pushed his hips forward, slathering the length of his cock along Obi-Wan's crack, moving up and down to coat it with the slick, sweet smelling oil. Obi-Wan sighed and nestled his head into his arms.  
  
"Please! I'm so ready for you, my Master; fill me now."  
  
Qui-Gon again parted the cheeks and positioned his cock at the opening, pushing in slowly. He groaned as the head easily breached the tight ring of muscles, and began inching himself into the silky heat with small strokes until he was finally sheathed within his Obi-Wan's body. He stopped then, breathing raggedly, almost sobbing at the sensation. Leaning forward, he placed both hands on either side of Obi-Wan's shoulders and lightly licked the back of his neck.  
  
"Obi-Wan, feels so good, you feel so good...tell me what you want."  
  
"Ride me, Master. Fuck me. Fuck me now..."  
  
At those words Qui-Gon began to move. He took short strokes at first, but when Obi-Wan cried out loud and pushed back against him, what small amount of control he still possessed vanished and he pounded into Obi-Wan's ass, shouting with each thrust. Holding slender hips with his large hands, Qui-Gon angled upwards into the pliant body, and Obi-Wan's cries turned to keening sobs.  
  
Obi-Wan's muscles tensed, and the young man reached a hand between his legs to pump his own erection. Then with a coarse scream he climaxed, spurting come over his stomach and chest. Qui-Gon felt his own orgasm sear through him, kindling the blood in his veins as he thrust hard into Obi-Wan and felt liquid heat flow out of him and into his beloved.  
  
Qui-Gon's breathing slowed; he gently pulled out of Obi-Wan, who sighed and rolled onto his back. Qui-Gon was drenched with sweat, but he knew that some of the moisture on his face was from tears.   
  
His voice was shaky and deep as he asked, "Are you all right?"  
  
Obi-Wan gave a small snort. "I'm much better than all right." Obi-Wan reached for his hand and tried to tug him into an embrace but Qui-Gon pulled away.  
  
"In a moment; I'll be right back."  
  
Qui-Gon went to his small bathroom to compose himself. He wiped his eyes and face, cleaned himself, then returned with a soft cloth for Obi-Wan, who had turned down the covers and was half dozing with one arm thrown over his head. He woke when Qui-Gon touched him with the cloth to clean his stomach and laughed when the cloth moved lower to wipe his softened penis.  
  
"May I stay?" Obi-Wan asked with a touch of shyness when Qui-Gon finished.  
  
Qui-Gon just chuckled. "You had better."  
  
Then he slipped under the covers and pulled Obi-Wan into his arms.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Sometime around second hour, Qui-Gon woke from his satiated sleep. The room was completely dark and Obi-Wan only existed as a warm presence lying on his back beside him. Qui-Gon reached out instinctively, needing reassurance that Obi-Wan was indeed there, that this incredible thing had really happened. He touched soft hair and moved to lean over the compact, lean body. Softly, almost reverently he began to kiss and taste, as Obi-Wan stirred sleepily beneath him. He kissed face and ears, cataloging each feature by touch alone. Obi-Wan brought his arms up to stroke Qui-Gon, but they were pushed back down to his sides. The tasting and touching continued.  
  
He explored further as he moved to kiss, suck and tease over Obi-Wan's neck and chest, tonguing one nipple and then the other until Obi-Wan was gasping his pleasure. Qui-Gon's large hands parted Obi-Wan's legs and fondled his sac, even as he licked his way down the flat stomach, paying special attention to the navel.  
  
Moving between Obi-Wan's legs, he listening to the youth's labored breathing with satisfaction. Each cry and moan from his beloved filled him with joy until he felt he might cry. How had he lived without love like this?  
  
A small part of him mourned his existence before now. It was the difference between seeing a hologram of a scenic vista and standing on a mountain in the sunlight, breathing fresh air. But it was worth it, he thought as he began suckling Obi-Wan's hard, turgid cock, to have been without love this long if it led him finally to Obi-Wan. Qui-Gon wanted nothing more in that instant than to give pleasure to Obi-Wan, and only Obi-Wan, forever.  
  
Then Obi-Wan was coming with a strangled scream. Qui-Gon gladly swallowed what he was offered, then spooned up beside his lover and pulled the still-shuddering body to him, back to belly.   
  
When he had stopped shaking Obi-Wan made an unhappy sound and said, "But you didn't..."  
  
"Shh. It's all right. It was enough to feel you come, my Obi-Wan."   
  
Obi-Wan made another sound of protest, but was rapidly falling back to sleep in Qui-Gon's arms.  
  
"I've found you." Qui-Gon whispered after the young man's breathing evened out and deepened. "You've been in front of me all this time and I never knew, I never *saw* you before tonight. I've known love; for my Master, the Order, the Force, but this is different.  
  
"You're what the poets write about and what the artists paint. I know now that this love is what I've worked towards all my life, what I've fought for, what is at the heart of every meditation. It's you, Obi-Wan, always you, only you. I love *you.* It's good that you are asleep and can't hear your old Master prattle on like this..."  
  
Qui-Gon fell asleep listening to the music that was Obi-Wan's breathing.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
Qui-Gon woke again with Coruscant's dawn, as was his custom. There was no brief period of disorientation, no question as to why he had his arms around another when he oftentimes slept alone. So invariably slept alone. He knew now what others meant when they spoke of home, and knew just as certainly that his home would always be with Obi-Wan. Carefully extricating his limbs from Obi-Wan's so as not to wake the young man, he laid a gentle kiss in the auburn hair and moved off the bed to pull on leggings and start the day.  
  
It had always been Obi-Wan's duty to prepare the morning meal for them when needed on missions, or when Qui-Gon did not wish to eat in the common areas at Temple. This morning, Qui-Gon would cook. Neston cakes were a breakfast favorite of Obi-Wan's but he was usually in too much of a rush to prepare them. Qui-Gon felt an unfamiliar, inordinate, yet welcome satisfaction as he began to make a meal he knew would please Obi-Wan. When the timer was set on the heating unit he turned his attention to brewing coffee.  
  
After a time Obi-Wan emerged yawning and bleary-eyed from the bedroom, already dressed in his somewhat rumpled clothing and carrying his boots. Qui-Gon set coffee cups at their usual places on the table and Obi-Wan sat down, mumbling his thanks while he began attacking the buckles on his boots. Eventually the smell from the kitchen broke through his early morning haze.  
  
"Are you cooking what I think you're cooking?"  
  
"I can see that your observational skills are more finely honed than ever since your Knighting, Obi-Wan. You are indeed smelling neston cakes."  
  
"Master, you shouldn't have!"  
  
"It is my pleasure." Qui-Gon smiled at him and Obi-Wan blushed and took a sip of his coffee.  
  
"We should consider new quarters, Obi-Wan."  
  
"...Master?"  
  
"I know two bedrooms are enough, but it is their location I am worried about."  
  
Obi-Wan still just stared at him, so he elaborated.  
  
"The bedrooms share a common wall," he explained with a small smile, "and if last night was any indication, we may want to select a floor plan with more...acoustic distance between ourselves and Anakin."  
  
The confusion cleared from Obi-Wan's eyes, only to be replaced by other emotions in swift succession. Alarm, sympathy, pity...embarrassment. The young man dropped his gaze, suddenly finding the cup in his hand very interesting.  
  
Even then, it took Qui-Gon several long seconds to realize the enormity of his mistake.  
  
Many years ago, on a mission to Restlin Prime as a young Knight, he had so completely misread the political situation that inopportune words had him fighting for his life. That had been a strange feeling: time had seemed to slow, while the beating of his heart and his ragged breath had drowned out all other sounds as he struggled not to give in to panic, and to extricate himself from the mess he'd made.   
  
That situation didn't begin to compare to his current feeling of dread. Now, as on Restlin, the only avenue left to him was retreat.  
  
"I have some early meetings this morning, Obi-Wan. I'd best get ready."  
  
Obi-Wan jerked his gaze back up to meet Qui-Gon's, but saw only the calm face of a diplomat who observed, but gave nothing of his own feelings away. To his credit, Obi-Wan didn't say anything. There was nothing to say that could make this situation better, and any platitude would surely make it worse. Obi-Wan gently set his cup on the table, stood, and collected his last container of belongings.  
  
"Goodbye, Master," he said quietly and walked slowly out of the suite, the door whooshing open and then shutting behind him.  
  
Qui-Gon sat rock still, replaying last night's conversation over in his mind.   
  
//"I thought you got over that more quickly than you developed it."//  
  
//"I did."//  
  
He had heard what he had wanted to hear. What he had hoped to hear. Perhaps for years, if he were honest with himself. The Jedi Master who had survived so many dangerous situations was now brought low by that most common of injuries -- a broken heart.  
  
In the kitchen, the timer-chime sounded. The neston cakes were ready.  
  
* * * * * * *  
  
End  
  
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